


Memories Bleed Together

by realcakkuu



Series: Interdimensional Falls [5]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alcohol Abuse, Also dont get your hopes too much, But its only implied, Gen, Memories, Not to mention unchronologically sorted memories, Post-Weirdmageddon, Too much memories, billrick, sanpher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realcakkuu/pseuds/realcakkuu
Summary: Stan's mind was a whirling chaos of mixed memories and it was hell. Bill and Stan attempt to sort through the mess that were their memories, trying to remember which memory belongs to who. Honestly, they weren't sure. They might've even switched a memory or two. Who knows?





	1. Down The Memory Lane

Stan's mind the first few moments was a real mess, the triangle floating in front of him couldn't stand it.

They were standing in a whirlpool mess of memories from both of them, all mashed together, creating some kind of nonsensical episodic story that was so choppy neither of them could barely get the gist of it. Stan was staring confused at the catastrophic mess of clips in front of him. The triangle, on the other hand, was beside him, crying.

Stan felt like he should comfort the triangle guy, but didn't know how to.

"Hey, man," Stan started reluctantly. Something about the triangle felt oddly familiar, but he couldn't put his finger to it. A part of him said that the being was bad, bad, _bad_ , but he seemed to be otherwise. I mean, villains don't usually cry. "Uh, are you alright?"

The triangle took his hands off his eye and he looked at him. Stan wasn't sure if the entity saw him at all. His gaze was glassy and unfocused. The triangle sobbed harder and scooted away. "Go away." He grumbled softly. Stan's brows furrowed, a bit disappointed, he was just trying to help, afterall. Well, he knew when he was unwanted.

"Okay, fine, whatever." Stan stood up, grumbling, and walked away from the entity. He wasn't sure where he was or how he was going to be able to pass through the whirlpool of memories. Maybe he could pass through the memories itself as if it were just curtains? He sought to stick his hand into the memory.

Before his hand could come into contact with the scene playing what seemed to be a jail break, he was pulled back by the triangle with such a force that the two stumbled back. Stan fell down with a loud thump, crushing his companion beneath him. The triangle yelp in pain and struggled to pull himself from under the man. He was able to break free from the terrifying butt of Stan and quickly dug his fingers into Stan's arm.

"Do _not_ touch these!" The triangle yelled. Or at least Stan assumed that the triangle yelled, his voice were just soft whispers. Stan winced at the pain and jerked his arm away from the triangle's grasp.

"Why shouldn't I touch these things, whatever these are?" He asked, a bit annoyed at the attitude this weird illuminati was giving him. "Do you know why we're here? Did _you_ bring us here?"

The triangle's eye widened and looked away. "I... I..." He stammered, twirling his fingers with one another. Stan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. The triangle winced at his stare.

"I think so." He mumbled, scratching his sleek black arm. "I can't remember, but I think it's because of one us." He paused, looking away, "Or... Both." He shrugged

The triangle gestured to the replaying clips around them. He looked at a static clip for a while before shaking his figure in a shiver. He looked back at Stan. "You can't touch these because we'd be sucked into the memory and we'd be force to relive it." He explained. "Or at least one of us would be forced to relive it, the other one would just be confused, most likely."

Stan looked around them, curiosity suddenly overwhelming him. These were their memories? He was tempted to dive right into them, to find out what happened, to know why he was here. But another part of him was scared. If these were his memories (and the triangle's too) then why couldn't he remember any of them? Was he forced to forget or... Did he want to forget? What was so dire that made him want to forget his past? He needed to know.

"But if they're our memories," Stan said slowly, thinking this through, because he was unsure about his decision, "shouldn't we find out what they are?"

The triangle looked reluctantly at the memories. "I tried viewing a couple of memories, you were still unconscious, and honestly I don't think you - or me - would like to remember any of the skeletons we hide in our closets."

Stan was confused. He never hid skeletons in his closet. He didn't think he would be the kind of person who would. He doubted if he had a closet, actually.

"I didn't mean it literally, Stan," the triangle followed up after seeing his confusion. "It was an idiomatic expression."

That rang a bell. Stan. _Stan_. That was his name. Stanley Pines. He rememebered. Well now he got that down. He looked at his companion.

"What's your name," he asked.

The triangle was surprised at the question he needed a moment to remember his own name. "I-I'm B-Triangle."

B-Triangle sounded like some algemath thing. Math wasn't really Stan's strong point, unless it involved money, a lot of it. He gave B a comforting grin and a soft pat on the back.

"Let's try just one memory, how about that, hmm? B?" He suggested, wondering how they could proceed to watching memories because he didn't want to view just one. "Then we'll take a break and, I dunno, reflect or some crap or whatever. Then we view another one. Let's work our way slowly, how does that sound?"

"Y-yeah sure." B said reluctantly, thoughtfully blinking his one eye. "Alright."

Stan smiled and stood up. B did the same, but floated beside him. His small black hand crept around Stan's big rough palms and gingerly held two fingers. B was shaking really bad.

Stan took a deep breath in and tried to look for a not so depressing memory.

"How about this one." He asked, pointing at the memory of B in a bar. "You look happy there."

B gave him a small nod and reached to touch the said memory. Like water, the memory surrounded the hand of the triangle, rippling at the touch.

Then, they lurched into the memory space.

 

 


	2. Flesh Curtains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B and Stan meets B's bestest of friends.

_**Flesh** _ **** **_Curtains_ **

There was a popular band back in the old days which rocked different galaxies and planets out of their pants (and panties). The Flesh Curtains was well celebrated, their songs always topped the charts and this year was the pinnacle of their career.

Stan and B were in that golden age. They watched from the side as the crowd rocked their heads to the beat of the song. There were loud screaming and chanting, not to mention screeched as creatures who were biologically incapable of speech tried to sing along.

And there he was, the focus of the memory, the tall, lean man with a pierced lip, his oddly gray-blue hair gelled up. He was grinning down at the crowd, his long, spidery hands dancing across the fretboard of his electric guitar. Though this was B's memory, Stan felt like he knew the guitarist from somewhere.

The crowd screamed his name when it was his solo, wildly dancing to the rhythm. The man named Rick Sanchez whipped his head back and forth as he played. Stan looked at B whose gaze was transfixed on Rick, trying to remember every detail about him.

Stan gasped. Behind B-Triangle was another one of himself, but this B seemed different, a bit more confident and radiant. Stan assumed this B was a part of the memory itself.

"Did ya l-eeeeugh-ike that, hmm?" Rick Sanchez asked the crowd, burping mid sentence. The crowd jeered in response. "I bet y'all did!" Rick laughed before taking a quick swig from his flask.

"Well you guys are in for... y'all're gonna be r-r-rocked out of your minds because for this last song, WE HAVE A SPECIAL GUEST FOR TONIGHT WHO'LL BE BLOWING YOUR BRAINS OUT."

The crowd cheered. Rick's head turned to the memory version of B with a lopsided grin and sloppily gesticulated he come over to the stage. B happily obliged, floating to the stage. When the crowd saw him, they lost it. Everyone was screaming and chanting.

B took the mic from Rick.

"SETTLE DOWN KIDS," B said teasingly to the crowd. "YOU LOT MISSED ME, HUH? WELL I'M BACK FOR TONIGHT." The crowd yelled. B blinked his one eye at Rick before snapping his fingers. A modified synthesizer appeared in front of him, along with a microphone for himself too.

With some minor adjustments on the buttons and knobs on the synth, B gave the ready signal to the drummer. Stan realized that the guy at the drums wasn't fully human. He was half... Bird? Stan shrugged.

Rick was the first one to enter, a guitar solo at the very beginning before the upbeat drums kick in. B let out a laugh.

" _I_ _got_ _no_ _time_ _,_ _I_ _got_ _no_ _time_ _to_ _live_ _,_ _I_ _got_ _no_ _time_ _to_ _live_ _and_ _I_ _can't_ _say_ _goodbye_ _._ "

Stan was fairly surprised that B was more than just a decent singer. There's something about his voice that sounded so enchanting and... Hypnotic. He was amazing as a singer. More so as a keyboardist. His hands quickly dart across the keys with full certainty and without hesitation it almost felt like it was magic.

B continued, " _And_ _I'm_ _regretting_ _having_ _memories_ _of_ _my_ _friends_ _who_ _they_ _used_ _to_ _be_ _beside_ _me_ _before_ _they_ _left_ _me_ _to_ _die_ _._ "

Stan frowned at this, snapping out of the trance-like situation he was pulled in, partly because the lyrics disturbed him, and partly because B was digging his fingernails into his skin again. Stan jerked his hand away and hissed.

"Ow!" He exclaimed in annoyance. "What the heck was that for?!" The triangle shrugged.

"I channel my magic through my music," he casually told Stan. "My singing voice is a hypnosis spell. You seemed like you were getting affected by it so I thought I'd pull you back to reality."

Surely enough, the energetic and chaotic crowd was reduced to what seemed like a cult, waving their arms in the air in union. There would be someone who would let out an occasional, "we love you," but beyond that, everyone seemed to be completely in sync. Even the bird guy was entranced. His movements seemed more on reflex than him actually playing.

The only person who seemed to be unaffected by B's hypnosis was Rick Sanchez who didn't seem to notice the abrupt change in atmosphere. He was more focused on his guitar. Stan saw him sneak a glance or two at B and each time he would grin with half-lidded eyes.

" _So_ _my_ _flashlight's_ _on_ _,_ _let's_ _stay_ _up_ _til_ _dawn_ _,_ _I_ _got_ _this_ _headache_ _and_ _my_ _life's_ _on_ _the_ _line_ _._ _I_ _felt_ _like_ _I_ _won_ _,_ _but_ _I_ _wasn't_ _done_ _,_ _THE_ _NIGHTMARE_ _REPEATS_ _ITSELF_ _EVERY TIME!_ "

Stan was starting to not like the vibe. True that B's voice was too good that you could be brain washed by it, but the emotion riddled on the last line sent chills down his spine. He felt that the same held true to his companion because he immediately clung to his hand.

Rick whipped his head back and brought himself closer to his mic. He sang alongside B, " _Got_ _to_ _keep_ _my_ _calm_ _,_ _and_ _carry_ _on_ _,_ _stay_ _awake_ _until_ _the_ _sun_ _would_ _shine_ _._ " The two singers exchanged smiles. " _But_ _I'm_ _not_ _so_ _strong_ _,_ _and_ _they're_ _not_ _gone_ _._ _They're_ _still_ _out_ _there_ _to_ _take_ _what's_ _left_ _of_ _mine_ _._ "

Everyone seemed to ultimately snap out of the trance the moment the music dropped. The lights went off save for the flashing LEDs tracing out red, blue, and green lines in the air. And as Rick took the lead, B provided the baseline.

It was Rick's turn to sing.

" _I_ _have_ _this urge,_ _I_ _have_ _this_ _urge_ _to_ _kill_ _,_ _I_ _have_ _this_ _urge_ _to_ _kill_ _and_ _show_ _that_ _I'm_ _alive_ _._ _I'm_ _getting_ _sick_ _of_ _these_ _apologies_ _from_ _people_ _with_ _priorities_ _,_ _that_ _their_ _lives_ _matter_ _so_ _much_ _more_ _than_ _MINE_ _._

" _But_ _I'm_ _stuttering_ _,_ _I'm_ _stuttering_ _again_ _,_ _No_ _one_ _would_ _listen_ _and_ _no_ _one_ _would_ _understand_ _..._ "

The hand quivered in Stan's palm. He briefly looked at B who seemed to be conflicted at the memory.

"Are you alright?" Stan asked. B nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the bottom of his eye. "He's just making me uncomfortable. Him. Rick Sanchez."

Stan raised his eyebrow and looked at the memory again. B seemed to be having a great time so why was he feeling uncomfortable.

"Aren't you two friends?" Stan asked. B nodded again this time slowly, as if he was uncertain.

"Yeah, I just..." He trailed away and grumbled to himself. Stan raised an eyebrow. B shook his figure in a shrug. "He's reminding me of some of my unpleasant, more recent memories with your twin."

Stan was confused now. He had a twin? Twin, twin, twin... He... Couldn't remember exactly. There was a vague image in his brain of a wrecked boat and a little six fingered kid on it, holding a hammer on one of his hands and looking out to the sea where the sun was setting. He was... Who was he?

"I think his name was Sixer?" B said reluctantly. "Uh, no, Fordsy?" He suggested. Stan's face lit up. Ford. Yes. That sounded about right.

"Stanford," Stan said firmly, remembering his brother. Suddenly the image in his mind was clear, the dorky kid with glasses and a thirst for adventure or anything weird, his partner in crime. "Stanford Pines." That was his twin.

B snapped his fingers. "Right," he said in agreement, "Stanford, Sixer. Yeah, that little gullible prick."

"What?" Stan asked, offended. That was really rude. No one talked shit about his twin. He balled his hands into fists.

B seemed to be surprised at his outburst too and withdrew from the man. "Woah, I-I-I didn't mean anything by it," he said in a panic, "I didn't know what got into me, I swear." He paused, looking away and narrowing his eye. "Well, maybe I did mean it, a little bit," he admitted quietly. "Something happened between us. Something real bad. I'm not sure what yet - we'll find out later - but something did happen."

"That better be justified," Stan growled. "Because I'm the only one who's allowed to say that Ford's a selfish know-it-all who's dumb enough to--"

He stopped himself mid sentence, taken aback at what was carelessly spilling out of his mouth. What made him say  _that?_  He loved his brother... Right? Why would he insult him like that? Maybe... maybe the triangle was right, he was a prick. Or he wasn't. Stan growled in frustration. WHY CAN'T HE REMEMBER?! His feelings for his twin was conflicted but WHY? He cursed himself silently for forgetting.

It was only when the crowd cheered so loudly when the two remembered they were still in a memory.

By the time Stan and B reengaged their attention to the past, the scene had changed. Instead of being on stage, B and Rick were in an alien bar in what they assumed was the after party. Everyone was dancing to the music as the DJ put on some sick beats. But all of those were just a blurred background, static noise, all eyes should be set on the duo.

"Daaaamn, Rickyyy, babe!!" B exclaimed, playfully snaking his arm around the man's shoulders. Rick almost immediately melted into B's arm. "I can't believe that that portal's  _still_  holding up. Tha-eeuugh-nks for going through all that just to have me 'round here, for old time's sake!"

"Of c-oouugh-ourse," Rick replied sluggishly, taking his fourth shot of tequila. "I, I, I missed having you by my side." He gave B an intoxicated grin as he caressed B's perimeter which made the polygon shudder. "Physically by my side."

"Ew, you two aren't gonna make out, right?" Stan asked, looking away because he didn't want to see anything mentally traumatizing. Heck, he didn't even know how this Rick could ever make out with A TRIANGLE and he most certainly did NOT want to know.

"How should I know?" Came B's defensive reply, turning his back at the two. He, too, wasn't keen on watching anything inconvenient to unfold. "I still can't remember, alright?"

To Stan's luck, and you audience too, nothing sexual came to happen. The Memory version of B's reaction to Rick's flirting wasn't what Stan had dreaded. The triangle had pulled away from the embrace and leaned back on his seat, taking a nice long swig from his bottle of vodka. Once he finished the entire bottle, he threw it across the room, almost hitting a couple of aliens.

Rick sensed the sudden change in mood and distanced himself. "What's the problem, B?"

B snorted and rolled his eye. "My dimension's a problem." His tone was emotionless, monotonous that it sent chills down Stan's spine. "I can't keep it stable any longer, it's, it's gonna fall apart again." B snapped his finger and another bottle of vodka appeared in thin air. He pressed the bottle into his eye and devoured it whole. He angrily chomped on it.

"I'm not even sure  _why_ I try!" He continued, still munching down on the glass bottle. "My dimension isn't worth keeping stable. It's like a sewer. All the shitty sewer rats scurry into it and the excess magic from different dimensions is saturating the place up it's so  _suffocating_ _."_

B swallowed the glass shards that were somehow reduced to dust. An awkward silence followed. Rick refused to say anything as he stared at B inquisitively. He knew that that wasn't the only thing bothering him. B sighed. He loved and hated how the human was always so good at reading him.

"Also I might've found another interesting human."

Rick stared, disappointed, at B for the longest of time before breaking into a loud guffaw. "Damn, B," he wheezed, "am I not good enough for you?" He asked teasingly. "Who's the lucky guy?"

B laughed too, but a teensy  bit forced, not that Rick noticed. "Wow, am I not good enough for you?" B repeated, mimicking Rick exaggeratedly. He laughed. "Says the guy who had a hive mind as an ex." B joked and both of them sniggered at their exes. The laughter eventually faded into an awkward silence. B coughed. 

"But seriously," B said, examining his hands, "he's a nobody. Just another toy to pass the time." B paused. "You'll like him, though. He's gullible. Really submissive little bean."

"Ooh, ki-uurp-kinky," Rick mused, impressed, "Taking it that you're finally having fun as the leader now, him?" The two laughed again.

B shrugged. "Nah, nothing intimate going on between us. He's just a great puppet. He's like a five year old who would stick a fork in an electric socket because you told him to."

Rick rolled his eyes. "H-he sounds pathetic."

"He is, though."

"Well, yeah, whatever, y-you're wrong. He doesn't sound interesting to me. Morons aren't my taste." Rick drank another shot. "Anyways, your dim-dime-eeeugh-ension. What about it?"

B sighed. "Fuck my dimension," he grumbled. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Ya sure?" Rick asked. B nodded. "Not even through a musical number?"

B rolled his eye. "No," he replied firmly. "Not even through music." Rick meh'd.

"Sure, babe," Rick said, keen on not overstepping his boundaries. "Just remember, you swore to me that you won't let it go to your head."

B smiled.

"It's too late for that," B's whispery voices replied.

Stan immediately looked at his companion who was watching the memory with a spiteful expression. B chuckled bitterly.

"Far too late." He said, embracing himself and slowly inching away from the memory. The triangle was shaking, his eye screwed shut. Stan dubiously followed him away from the memory to the dark patch of space, wherever they were. B laughed a short, hollow, dry laugh which reverberated throughout the memory and within Stan's mind. His eye flickered open, and he looked up at Stan with an empty expression, devoid of all emotion.

"Tell me," he whispered to man, "how do you not let it go to your head?" He asked him listlessly. "How do you stop yourself from going insane if you're stuck for billions of years, alone, without anyone to talk to, to lean onto for support? How do you cope with the unending guilt when life doesn't even exist yet – when nothing exists yet? When the only thing that there is is you and your nightmares of a world that no longer exists because of a stupid mistake?" Stan was starting to get creeped out now and he backed away from the triangle. B grabbed Stan's arm and dug his fingers into his skin yet again. Beads of red appeared and soon was tracing down the length of Stan's arm  and dripped onto the floor.

"L-l-let go of me!" Stan exclaimed, trying to free himself from the demon's grasp. 

His blood ran cold. Demon.  _Demon_. He stared into B's harsh and callous eye. He was bad, bad,  _bad_!

B tightened his grip on Stan and the man yelped. "Tell me," he  demanded, raising his voice. "How can you keep your sanity when, by the time life on different planets exist, evil creatures and monsters swarm into that pocket space between all universes, stepping all over you because you're NOTHING but a WEAK,  _INSIGNIFICANT_ , LITTLE IDIOT WHO CAN'T STAND UP FOR YOURSELF?  _HOW_?" The once whispy whispers was now a harsh, dissonant chorus of deafening screams. "TELL ME, STANLEY.  _HOW_?"

Stan grit his teeth and gave the demon a headbutt to the eye with all his strength. B screeched in pain and recoiled, taking his hands off of Stan to rub his eye. The grown man stumbled back but quickly found his balance. He took a defensive stance, ready to beat the crap out of the demon. 

B's eye shot open, blue veins lining the sides of his eye, he glared and hissed at Stan. He was ready to pounce at the old man, his hands – no,  _claws_ – bursting into flames at the snap of his finger. The azure fire licked at the skin of the demon but didn't burn him. It was an entrancing thing to watch, the flames dancing around the tip of his claws.

But it was bad, bad,  _bad_. Stan remembered vaguely, his encounter with B, in the living room and how he punched him to oblivion. That was the most he could remember, and if he was punching a demon into smithereens for doing something then he had to have done something so unspeakably horrible to deserve it. Stan clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Let the demon come, he'd punch him harder this time. He'd kill him this time.

And all hell broke loose.

B spontaneously broke down in panic.

At the sight of his hand aflame, he started crying and desperately trying to put it out. Stan had never seen a... He had never seen a more pathetic sight than this, honestly. B was frantically waving his hand in attempts to put out the fire.

"No, no,  _no_ _,_ " he exclaimed, trying to extinguish it by aggressively trying to smother the flames. "FuCK!!!"

B stuck his hands into his eye. It was a grotesque sight. Stan wondered how painful it might be to stick an entire hand into an eyesocket. When B opened his eye however, it was covered in turquoise goop, and Stan caught a glimpse of what seemed like a  _tongue_ inside the eye socket. What. The actual. Fuck.

Stan took a step back and raised his fists. The blood trickled down his arm. He grit his teeth, he'd have to make this quick before he lose more blood that would take its toll.

B whimpered at the glare Stan was giving him and kept himself low, his figure bent into a bow. He crawled away, ever so slowly, away from the man. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking a bit. "I didn't mean to. I– no. Stay away from me."

Stan wasn't buying anything. This guy, this triangle guy was toying with him. He was faking retreat. He snarled. "The fuck do you want from me, huh? If you want a knuckle sandwich, I'll give it to ya!"

B scurried back a few steps almost immediately after Stan's remark "I-I-I didn't mean it!" He stammered. "I-I was lost, I mean, I lost control. I don't want anything from you, I-I swear."

"What's with ya?!" Stan asked in frustration. "You're a ticking time bomb, you are!"

B whimpered again. "I'm really sorry. I swear. I won't do it again!"

Stan scoffed. "How do ya fucking know you won't lose control again?!"

B remained silent because he was right, B didn't know if he'd break down and go into a rampage again. B shook his figure.

"I don't know," he admitted. " _But_ I know some of the triggers. If-if that helps."

Stan sighed. He still was skeptical about everything but he wasn't getting anywhere if he left the triangle. He obviously can't venture in memories alone and the same goes for the triangle; they might switch memories.

"Ugh. Fine."  Stan lowered his fists. He had to do something about the bleeding.

"D-do you need help?" B asked reluctantly, slowly inching towards Stan. The man eyed the triangle suspiciously. "I won't bite, I swear." He whispered. B examined the damage he inflicted on the man. "Here." He snapped his fingers and the fresh, punctured wounds knitted itself together.

Stan let out a small woah in awe. That was amazing.

"We're in the mind," B pointed out, "your mind specifically. And you can do anything in the mindscape."

"That would've been nice to know a while ago when you attacked me," Stan grumbled. B chuckled awkwardly.

"Yeah. Really sorry, though."

Stan shrugged. "Let's  back to the memory and get this over with."

When they got back, the two were so drunk Rick was stumbling and tripping on himself while trying to dance with two female aliens. B hooted and cheered for Rick. One thing led to another and Rick tried to get a kiss from the gals and earned him a fist in the face. When the two stomped away, Rick wolf whistled and stumbled back to his seat. B guffawed at him.

A persistent beeping emanated from Rick's pocket. With a groan, he took out his space phone and dismissed the notification. "Fuck," he mumbled. "I have to go take care of shit in half an hour." 

B shrugged and leaned back. "Go ahead, Ricky," he said in a sing song voice. "I have business to attend to as well. My little puppet doesn't do well being left alone, ya know?"

Rick rolled his eyes. "He sounds really whiny," he noted. B laughed. 

"Well, gotta go," B said, standing up on the chair. With a snap of his finger he procured a top hat and a sleek black cane. Rick stared dumbfounded at B as he wore the top hat and popped a bowtie on the mid section of the polygon. The triangle hopped off the seat and floated in mid air.

"Just do me a little favour," B said, a little bit seriously now. Rick was still busy adoring the stylish get up of the triangle. He blinked a couple of times before willing himself to pay a bit more attention.

"I ain't a guaranteeing shit dawg," Rick said, still checking B out.

B twirled the cane in his hand. "It's not complicated, sweetie," he said, blinking slowly. "Just don't go to dimension 49'\\."

Rick was about to ask why when B blew a kiss at Rick with his eye before leaving the bar with a soft poof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. No this isn't meant to be a crossover fic which is why I wanted to get Rick Sanchez out of the way as soon as possible.
> 
> As for the people who actually don't know Rick, I tried my best to give you a background on his personality and possible impact on Bill as well. As I keep saying, everything Bill is in the Gravity Falls series is because of Rick. So you could grasp the... Evilness and the irresponsibleness of Rick.
> 
> The song they sang is I Got No Time by The Living Tombstone. It just accurately describes both how I see Bill and Rick respectively. I wasn't supposed to have Rick sing but I felt like he should just so the non-Rick and Morty fans could understand his... Character.
> 
> Also sorrz squanchy wasn't here I couldn't find a place to add him
> 
> Well this is the last you'll see of Rick... I hope... at least.
> 
> Little fun fact, amnesiac!Bill doesn't have his bowtie and his top hat. Sorrz I forgot to mention.
> 
> Gosh the fic just progressively got worse after Bill broke down

**Author's Note:**

> So hey this will be purely Stan Bill platonic. Not even aiming to ship them at all seriously. Bill's in no emotional state to be shipped rn Lmao
> 
> Clearing out both of them are amnesiacs so pardon Bills OOC (out of character) shit ya know. (Smh he's practically Will at this point with all the crying)
> 
> ✨Also, feel free to leave a comment! I'd really like to hear your thoughts!✨


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